


disturbing behavior

by girljustdied



Category: My So-Called Life
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-19
Updated: 2011-03-19
Packaged: 2019-10-08 15:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17389268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girljustdied/pseuds/girljustdied
Summary: brian and rayanne bond in a diner.





	disturbing behavior

**Author's Note:**

> post series.  
> prompt was "the waitress looks concerned but she never says a word."

He wouldn’t call it a date. Like, at all. Well. Not exactly. But the present situation couldn’t be changed, which as it was placed him and Rayanne Graff across the table from one another, her wolfing down some pancakes and eggs that Brian feels pretty confident she isn’t planning to pay for.

He’d been trying to get a quick bite to eat after band practice when she’d scared the shit out of him rapping at the window near his face.

“Fancy some company, Krakow?” and then she’d sort of laughed, like she was amused by her own question.

And he couldn’t really do more than stutter about how, you know, he was really mostly done and he had to get home soon and, well, not to mention that Angela was still pissed at her but—

Side dishes. She orders nothing but side dishes. Side of scrambled eggs. Side of pancakes. Side of Canadian bacon. Side of irritation—that one was for him.

Her foot’s touching his under the table. That wasn’t irritating. Just confusing. It wasn’t a sexy thing, it was just there. Resting. As if it was no big deal. And he guesses that it isn’t, exactly, but that’s not the _point_.

Their waitress’ name is Kimberly, and she keeps staring at them like she thinks they’re gonna be trouble. He tells Rayanne as much, and she grins and just kind of chews harder. If that’s even possible.

“You care what Kimberly thinks about you, huh?”

Yes. “Well, no.”

“You got a crush on her or something?”

“Of course not.”

She swallows her food and takes a long gulp out of his water glass. Her eyes sober slightly after, even if her mouth’s still in a crooked grin. “Still stuck on Angel-cakes, then?”

He totally knows what she’s doing. “So, I mean, is that what this is? You’re like, pumping me for information about Angela Chase?”

“You’d know if I was pumping you,” she replies like it’s second nature. Then seems to think better of it at what he’s sure is the completely aghast expression on his face. “Look, I saw you in here. Like, all by yourself. And I thought we were cool, but if we’re not then I’ll just make like a banana.”

She starts gathering her stuff—she’s always got too much stuff for just one person—

“Wait, what?” he blurts out. Rayanne eyes him critically, and he realizes what she meant a second later. “Oh. Split. Make like a banana and split.”

“Yup, that’s about the gist of it, Krakow,” she stands and pats his shoulder.

“And by the way, I’m not in love with Angela. Anymore. For your information,” he feels the need to inform her.

“Why?” she seems almost offended. Hand on hip.

He doesn’t really know how to answer that. Additionally, Kimberly’s staring from across the room, eyes in slits like she thinks they might try to dine and dash on her.

“Look, will you sit down? God,” he mutters.

“Answer my question. I’m like, totally dying to know,” Rayanne’s teasing meanly, like she thinks she’s caught him in a lie and wants to watch him squirm.

“Well, she’s with Jordan,” the words jump right out, eager to prove her wrong. “For one.”

She plops back down in her seat. “So? She was before.”

He tries to meet her eyes, hopes she’ll get it. “It’s different now. ‘Cause like, how can I respect her anymore?” Rayanne frowns, looks away and crosses her arms across her chest. Doesn’t say anything, so he continues, “Like, so she knows I wrote that letter, and she _still_ picks him? She honestly thinks Jordan Catalano is her intellectual match, or whatever?”

Rayanne rolls her eyes, “She’s not looking for _intellectual_ stimulation, Krakow. No offense—”

“So what am I? An ogre?” When Rayanne opens her mouth to respond, he cuts her off, “And what are you? Chopped liver?”

“Excuse me?” her brow furrowed.

“She can’t forgive and forget with you, but she can go steady with Jordan again like nothing happened. It’s unbalanced. Angela Chase is like, mentally unbalanced.”

Rayanne snorts with surprise, “You know, Brian, I never thought you’d be the one to—”

“So, can I get y’all anything else?” Waitress Kimberly, check all ready in hand, just waiting for him to tell her that they’re done. Prods, “All done?”

“Well, I don’t know about my friend here,” Rayanne’s eyes flick over to his at that word, “but I personally am going to need an apple pie. With a side of chocolate ice cream. And a side of caramel sauce.”

Brian just can’t help the laugh that bursts out of his chest. It’s like, really loud. And he can’t seem to stop, which makes Rayanne start to snicker as well.

“And for you, sir?” Kimberly looks like she might have an aneurism, and for once he finds himself not really caring at all—it just makes him laugh harder. “What’s so funny?”

Rayanne manages to stifle her giggles. Says, “Oh, don’t worry about him. His, uh, his childhood dog died! Man’s best friend and all. So he’s in a strange place—uh—you know—like, if he didn’t laugh, he’d be crying a river right in the middle of this lovely restaurant. You ever feel that way? Once I saw a cat get run over and I just laughed at its body flopping all over the place so I didn’t have to be sad about the whole death issue. So. I’m thinking my buddy might need his own side of ice cream. To drown his sorrows. Vanilla.”

Kimberly’s incredulous, and turns to stare at Brian. He can barely manage to nod in response, he's practically _wheezing_. So the waitress purses her lips, turns abruptly, and speed-walks off without another word. When he finally gets his breath back, Rayanne looks pretty pleased.

“You are a really disturbing person,” he figures he’ll just let her know right now. So there’s no confusion. Although the grin still tugging at his lips probably belies the whole message.

She smiles. Pretty sincerely, actually. It’s softer, sort of. Pretty. “Right back at ya.”

Her foot touches his again and he thinks maybe he’s okay with that.


End file.
